


I'll Go On

by somebodywakeuphicks



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 01:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11430486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebodywakeuphicks/pseuds/somebodywakeuphicks
Summary: This story is my version of what happens after Stranger Things Season 1 (prior to release of S2). It tells Hopper's story, mainly from his perspective.In the tone of Stranger Things, the chapters are as follows:Chapter One: The One Night StandChapter Two: The PartyChapter Three: The LabChapter Four: Lost and FoundChapter Five: The Upside DownChapter Six: The SuperheroesChapter Seven: CloserChapter Eight: The ConfrontationChapter Nine: The MotelChapter Ten: The HospitalChapter Eleven: The ThessalhydraEpilogue





	1. The One Night Stand

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second work here. I put a lot more time into it than the first one, so I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I'm also thinking of writing a sequel to this, but I also want to write something totally new (not fan fiction), so I haven't decided if/when I will write a sequel.

_We know what we are, but not what we may be._

_—William Shakespeare, Hamlet_

 

“I guess it’s true what everyone says about you.”

 

“And what’s that?” Jim Hopper asked, mid-grunt. He had met a woman at the bar earlier that night, and at that moment, he had her bent over the side of his bed, pounding her from behind. One hand worked furiously at her clit while the other found her breast. 

 

“You know… _mmm_ …your way around the female body. Yeah, that’s it. Keep doing that _._ ”

 

“I suppose.” It may have been true. He didn’t feel like he was good at much, but over the years, he had fine-tuned this skill into a fluent second language. That night, though, he was tired, and what he really wanted her to do was shut up. He flipped her onto her back and climbed on top, thrusting his tongue past her parted lips before kissing her neck. 

 

“You feel amazing, Joyce.”

 

His heart skipped a beat. _Fucking hell! Maybe she didn’t hear me,_ he thought. 

 

“Who the hell is Joyce?”

 

_Yep._

 

Melanie or Mandy or… _what was her name again?_ had pulled away at this point. 

 

“You don’t remember my name, do you?”

 

“Ummm…” Hopper squinted, his mind blanking. 

 

“Of course this is happening,” she said as she began to collect her clothes. “I guess all the other stuff they say about you is true, too. You’re distant, non-committal, and kind of an asshole.”

 

“Megan! It’s Megan.” Hopper said. 

 

“Mary.” The door slammed behind her, leaving Hopper alone. 

 

He flopped back onto his over worn mattress in frustration before making his way to the deck of his double wide trailer. He lit a cigarette, inhaling before sighing heavily.

 

_What the fuck am I doing?_

 

Things had gotten better, sort of. In the past year, he had managed to break his pill habit, and he was showing up to work on time for a change. His drinking had slowed down, but he wasn’t about to give that up completely. That, or smoking. _Definitely not smoking_ , Hopper thought as he took a drag of his cigarette. He frowned. 

 

And yet. It wasn’t good enough. Getting laid by attractive (and sometimes not so attractive) women wasn’t enough. Rescuing a missing child the year before and getting heralded a hero wasn’t enough. _What is enough, then?_ The memory pierced his thoughts, a vivid image of a little girl, no more than five. She sat at a plastic kids’ table, brow furrowed and tongue stuck out as she drew a big red and blue house with stick figures side by side. Her daddy knelt down beside her and put a hand on her back. “Tell me about it, honey.”

 

“That’s you and Mommy and me and that’s our house,” the little girl explained gleefully. 

 

“I think you may be an artist one day!”

 

She beamed. Her sparkling blue eyes gazed up at her father with complete trust and adoration. 

 

Hopper stared at the pond behind his deck and put his cigarette out, suddenly feeling sick.


	2. The Party

 

_All men have secrets and here is mine so let it be known_

_For we have been through hell and high tide_

_I think I can rely on you_

_And yet you start to recoil_

_Heavy words are so lightly thrown_

_But still I'd leap in front of a flying bullet for you_

_But no more apologies, no more_

_No more apologies_

_I'm too tired, I'm so sick and tired_

_And I'm feeling very sick and ill today_

_But I'm still fond of you_

_—The Smiths_

 

“Joyce! Come down! I want to see how it looks on you!” Karen Wheeler called from her living room. Her perfectly coifed caramel curls hung at her shoulders as she giddily twirled in her white Marilyn Monroe-esque dress. She feigned sexy embarrassment as she smoothed her skirt down her shapely hips. 

 

Joyce Byers walked timidly down the stairs toward her friend. “I don’t think anyone is going to know who I’m supposed to be.”

 

“Of course, they will!” Karen exclaimed. “You are the stunning, regal Audrey Hepburn!”

 

Joyce wore a black sleeveless taffeta dress that hugged her petite frame. The knee-length pencil skirt and black heels accentuated her seemingly long legs. Her chestnut hair was carefully pinned up and and pulled back with a small jeweled tiara, and she wore a four strand pearl necklace around her neck. “I just know I’m going to trip and break my nose or spill something on your dress.”

 

“Nonsense,” Karen flicked her wrist. “I am determined that we have fun tonight. While our kids are all out Trick or Treating, and who knows what else, we get to have some adult fun. Ted! Come on!”

 

“What’d I dooooo?” Karen’s vampire husband called from around the corner. 

 

The Sinclairs, neighbors to the Wheelers, were hosting the annual Halloween party. Normally, it was a laid back family affair, but most of the teenagers wanted to do their own thing that year. So they decided to hold the party at the Wolf Lodge, complete with complimentary babysitting for the littles who were too young to be going anywhere on their own. Joyce wasn’t so sure she wanted to go. Unlike Karen, her idea of a fun night involved drawing a bubble bath and reading a good book while sipping wine. But she had agreed to go, because it’s what they did every year. 

 

As the three adults stepped into the lodge, Joyce scanned the room. It was pretty full, but not overly so. She saw a couple co-workers from her job at Melvald’s General Store. She waved to some friends.

 

“What’ll it be tonight?” the bartender asked her as she stepped up to order a drink. 

 

“I’ll have a Jim Beam, neat,” Joyce replied. She could feel someone’s eyes on her and turned to meet the gaze of Jim Hopper.

 

“I’ve always liked your choice of drink,” he said, as he sipped his own Johnnie Walker. 

 

Joyce rolled her eyes. “I didn’t know asshole traitors were invited to this event. Isn’t it a requirement to dress up, anyway?”

 

Hopper wore his standard casual wear. His indigo and cream flannel hung a bit awkwardly on his 6’3” frame. His trusty, coffee-colored fedora, as always, sat atop his head. 

 

“Indiana Jones,” he replied, holding up a whip. “And hello to you, too.” 

 

Joyce rolled her eyes again. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom had been out for a few months, and it was all the rage. He clearly had not put in much effort. 

 

“And who are you supposed to be, dahlin’?” he asked, faking a southern accent. 

 

“ _Karen,_ ” Joyce mumbled under her breath. “Audrey Hepburn. I’m Audrey Hepburn.” She looked at Hopper. His flannel really brought out the blue in his eyes. She hated how she noticed that.  

 

“Joyce…,” Hopper said, suddenly becoming serious. 

 

She interrupted him. “Unless you’re going to apologize, I really don’t want to hear your excuses, Hopper.” 

 

“I was just trying to protect you!”

 

“Yeah? Well I don’t need protecting!”  

 

“Look, I know that. But this situation with The Lab is different. You’d be in over your head.”

 

“Enlighten me! Tell me what the fuck is going on, Hopper, because I’ve been waiting almost a year for you to explain _something_.” 

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Always your excuse.”

 

“It’s not an excuse.”

 

“Oh, and what the hell are the new bikes about? Jonathan doesn’t even ride a bike anymore.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hopper said.

 

“Well, someone left bikes on our porch with a card that said _Thought the boys might like these_. I don’t appreciate it, Hopper. You’re not going to bribe your way into our lives!”

 

“I said it wasn’t me.”

 

Karen appeared next to Joyce. “Is everything alright?”

 

She looked around. Several people were staring. _Great._ “Yes, everything’s fine,” Joyce said, gritting her teeth. “I was just leaving.”

 

 She stormed off to the lobby and nearly collided with what appeared to be a pirate.

 

“Joyce!” 

 

 _How does he know my name?_ Joyce wondered, until he took his eye patch off. _Bobby Newby._

 

“Bobby! What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

 

“It’s just Bob now. I moved back to town last week. Opening a RadioShack. Don’t know if you’ve seen the new building downtown? Wow, Joyce, you look…amazing. Audrey Hepburn?”

 

Joyce grinned. “The one and only.”

 

“How’s the family doing? Jonathan must be around sixteen now?”

 

“Seventeen. I have another boy, Will, who’s thirteen. And Lonnie’s long gone. Divorced,” Joyce replied. She thought she saw Bob’s eyes briefly light up.

 

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

 

“No, it’s not. Lonnie’s an ass. What about you?”

 

“Divorced. No kids.”

 

Now it was Joyce’s turn to say sorry.

 

“Don’t worry about it. It was ten years ago.” 

 

There was a lull in the conversation. “Do you want to go find a bench outside and catch up?” Bob asked. Joyce agreed. She needed something to divert her thoughts from Hopper, and she was not keen on going back into the party at the moment. 

 

Bob was sweet. His short stature, big green eyes, and slight baby face reminded Joyce of a puppy. He had the same curly brown hair from high school, only now with a few strands of grey. He had left Hawkins shortly after Jonathan was born and met someone in Indianapolis. They were married and divorced a short three years later. He had dated on and off since then, with a couple serious relationships, but no second marriage. He spent most of his time working on his growing business and collecting model trains. Over the years, he had amassed quite the collection. He admitted that when he moved to town the week prior, he had set up his trains in the basement even before he put his dishes away. 

 

“And what brought you back to Hawkins?” Joyce inquired.

 

“I just needed a change. I liked Indy, but my business had too much competition. Hawkins seemed like a good spot in need of an electronics store, and I already know a lot of people here.” He lightly brushed Joyce’s hand as he said it. She smiled, needing the distraction. 

 

Joyce and Bob re-entered the party an hour later. She noticed Hopper raise an eyebrow from across the room, but she turned away, ignoring him. As she and Bob began to dance, she spotted him going back to the bar for another drink. 

 

“Is that Jim Hopper?” Bob asked. “I didn’t know he was still in town. What’s he been up to?”

 

“He’s been Hawkins’ Chief of Police for the past five years.”

 

“Really? Huh. Were you two ever together? Because he keeps looking over here.”

 

Joyce was becoming irritated. “No. Well, I mean, yes, when we were fourteen. But that was nothing. Can we not talk about Jim Hopper?”

 

The party went more smoothly after that. Joyce and Bob danced and laughed until well past one a.m. “I haven’t had this much fun in awhile!” she exclaimed before checking her watch. “Wow, I’ve gotta get home. I need to make sure the boys arrived safely. Honestly, I should have done that awhile ago, especially after last year.” 

 

Bob nodded, already hearing from Joyce the story of how Will went missing the last November. She had left out the part where he was taken to another dimension by a faceless monster and how she and Hopper had to go in after him, but that could be saved for another day. 

 

“Why don’t we pick this up tomorrow at lunch?” he asked.

 

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m just so busy and don’t know if I’m ready for all of that right now…”

 

“Joyce. It’s just lunch. Besides, after hearing about Lonnie and all the other creeps you ended up dating, you owe a nice guy like me a chance.”

 

Joyce sighed. “You’re right. It’s just lunch. And we had a great time catching up tonight. Sure. There’s a coffee shop next to Melvald’s. Meet me on my lunch break? Twelve o’clock?”

 

“It’s a date.”

……………

 

Joyce sat at the coffee shop across from Bob, a bouquet of red roses laid on the table. She picked at her ham sandwich absentmindedly as he talked. 

 

“—and then I ran into Richie Swanson, and we had a laugh about that thing, remember? In high school?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Joyce said. “With the pigs, right?”

 

“Yeah! The teachers were so mad! It was great. You probably didn’t know it, but I had a huge crush on you then.”

 

“I knew.” Joyce smiled.

 

“I mean, everyone did. I think it was the mysterious, dark-eyed girl thing. I just knew I’d never have a chance. Besides, you were dating Lonnie by that point.”

 

“And here we are,” Joyce said.

 

“Yeah, I’m probably the envy of the whole town.”

 

She found it somewhat refreshing how little Bob actually knew about her. The truth was, much of the town found her a bit neurotic. She’d dealt with anxiety much of her life, and when she and Lonnie began having problems, it only got worse. His big mouth didn’t help improve people’s perceptions. Then Will disappeared. Joyce just _knew_ that he was alive, but no one had believed her. It made sense. She was rambling on about monsters in walls and how her son was talking to her through Christmas lights. _But I was right,_ she thought. A year later, most people still didn’t know the truth about how this monster, the Demogorgon, was Hawkins National Laboratory’s blunder. Or that it even existed at all. 

  
Luckily, those that knew her closely still treated her as they always had. But there was something there. A slight cloud behind their eyes, fleeting. _Is Joyce really okay?_ it said. Even Karen occasionally had that look. It hurt Joyce. Hopper had never given her that look. Ever. Most people treated her like porcelain doll, ready to crack. 

 

“—and that was the reason—Joyce? Are you listening?”

 

Joyce snapped back to reality. “I’m sorry. I just started thinking about something.” _Someone._

 

“Oh, yeah? What about?”

 

“It’s not important. Finish your story.”

 

A week later, Bob and Joyce were official. Bob was spending most evenings at the Byers’ for dinner and a great deal of nights in Joyce’s bed. 

 

“That was nice,” she said after they had finished on one such evening. Bob snuggled in close to spoon her and press subdued kisses to her hair. Suddenly, the air felt too dense. Beads of sweat formed on her body, and she threw off the covers and grabbed a cigarette from the bedside drawer. 

 

“Something wrong?” Bob sat up.

 

“Just felt too hot.” Joyce evaded the question. _What_ is _wrong, anyway?_ she wondered. _Bob is so sweet and kind to the boys and, of course, kind to me. Sex is fine. I haven’t climaxed yet, but that’s normal in new relationships, right?_ As a cloud of smoke encircled her head,  she couldn’t quite put her finger on what felt off. 

 

Bob frowned. “You know those aren’t good for you, sweetie.”

 

She sighed and put her cigarette out.

 

“I mean, it’s your body. You do what you want,” he said with a slight air of petulance. 

 

“No, it’s fine,” Joyce replied stiffly before crawling back under the covers and trying to sleep.


	3. The Lab

_And if you lie down with the wolves_

_You learn to howl_

_You got me brainwashed, you got me so lost_

_You got me fucked up like you_

_—Dreamers_

 

“What the hell do you want now?” Hopper sat in his office at the police station late one night. It had been two months since the Halloween party, and he was alone in the building, taking a call. “Alright,” he conceded. “I’ll come in.”

 

Hopper drove his police truck toward the enigmatic building. The barbed wire fence encircled the grounds and left a noticeable prison-like feel. The building itself was obstructed by several large trees, giving off the impression that it was meant to stay out of sight. Built in the fifties, it didn’t appear to have been updated since with its bleak concrete exterior. The gate opened suddenly as Hopper drove onto the property, past the sign reading Hawkins National Laboratory.

 

“Are you going to tell me what this is all about?” Hopper asked pointedly and with growing irritation. The concrete room was cold, and as he sat in the metal folding chair, one bright light dangling from the ceiling, he couldn’t help but remember the night he made the deal with The Lab. It was all too familiar. 

 

This wasn’t the first time The Lab had contacted him or brought him out. However, it had been two months since their last interaction, and he’d secretly hoped that they’d moved on. _I guess not,_ he thought. 

 

“We have evidence that Eleven has been close by,” Dr. Owens, head of Hawkins National Laboratory, stated. Dr. Owens had taken over the position nine months before. It seemed to Hopper that the Department of Energy didn’t think Dr. Brenner, the previous head, was qualified to run the place after how much he fucked up. 

 

Hopper didn’t completely trust Owens, just like he hadn’t trusted Brenner. However, Owens had been sympathetic to the situation and seemed to want to right things. He had never threatened Joyce’s life like Brenner did. So far, he seemed fairly respectful of Hopper, with the exception of requiring him be at The Lab at a drop of a hat. 

 

“Eleven, eh? You really think you’ve found her this time?” This was nothing new. They had been searching for the girl since she destroyed the Demogorgon and was thrown back into the Upside Down. That was the theory, anyway. No one actually knew where she was, or _if_ she was. 

 

Owens passed Hopper a cigarette and lit it. “Yes, we’ve been listening for her. There seems to be some activity on Cornwallis.”

 

“Mirkwood,” Hopper mumbled, using the nickname Will and his friends had given the street. “I’ve checked there before, and I haven’t seen any sign of her.” 

 

“Well, tonight I’d like you to check again.” 

 

Hopper groaned. He liked going into the Upside Down about as much as he liked being kicked in the balls. Unfortunately, he had made his own bed.

 

“By the way, how did the Byers kids like their gifts?” Owens asked.

 

Hopper raised his eyebrows. “Oh, that was you? You got me in trouble with Joyce.” He let out a halfhearted chuckle as smoke rose lazily around his head. “What’s that all about?”

 

“I feel badly about how much Joyce and her family suffered under Dr. Brenner last year. I’ve been trying to come up with a way to do something nice. Not that bikes make up for everything that happened. But I thought it would be an amicable gesture. Without her knowing who they were from, of course.”

 

“Jonathan doesn’t ride a bike.”

 

“What?”

 

“Jonathan. Joyce told me he doesn’t ride a bike.”

 

“That’s too bad. I’ll have to think of something else, then.”

 

“I’d rather you not. She thinks they’re from me and is pretty pissed about it.”

 

“Oh, you haven’t been getting along?” Owens asked. “That’s too bad. Any particular reason?”

 

“No,” Hopper lied. “She just doesn’t like to be reminded of what happened, and I guess I remind her too much.”

 

“I suppose it’s time to get to work. While you’re in there looking for Eleven, I would like you to look for anything else unusual.”

 

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

 

“You’ve seen the eggs. I want you to study them. Tell me what you notice about them. See if any have hatched or if they look like they are being eaten by something. In addition, I want you to collect any small specimens you see. Slugs and such. Bring them back to the laboratory.” He held out what looked to Hopper to be a Ghostbuster trap. 

 

Hopper leapt from his chair, cigarette falling from his mouth. “You can’t be fucking serious! No way in hell!”

 

“Jim…,” Owens said evenly, resting his hand on his graying head and leaning in across the table. “As I’ve stated many times before, I have no nefarious intentions. I’m a good guy here. I only want to find Eleven, so—”

 

“—that you can see to it that she’s safe and receives proper care, I know, I know. Spare me. What’s this egg thing about? And the slugs?”

 

“We have reason to believe that, without the Demogorgon as the head of the food chain, those eggs could be hatching. Other creatures may be multiplying. We don’t know what’s going on, but we want to study it. In a controlled environment, of course. Maybe what we can learn from them will be useful for us.”

 

Hopper sighed. He didn’t like the idea of purposefully bringing anything back from the Upside Down, but maybe bringing back a few inanimate objects wouldn’t hurt. 

 

As it turned out, Hopper did not see Eleven. Not that he was surprised. None of the excursions he was sent on ever panned out. He explored the area around Mirkwood in the yellow hazmat suit The Lab provided him, just in case the air was toxic. He had breathed the air before. He was fairly certain it wasn’t deadly, but it didn’t exactly feel healthy, either. White spores floated around continuously along with a smog-like gas. Hopper looked around at all the trees, covered in thick, viscous vines. It was always night in the Upside Down. Other than that, everything was the same. The police department, schools, houses, and everything else in Hawkins was there. It was just…dilapidated. Decaying. The opposite of life. _Death._ And then he stumbled upon it. An egg, almost waist-high. Hopper shown his flashlight into the stringy crevice of the empty egg. He was relieved that nothing was growing inside of it. He had seen Alien, and visions of a facehugger attaching to his helmet and thrusting a proboscis down his throat made him shudder. He pulled apart some of the gluey egg shell and placed it into the contraption that Owens had given him. As he walked on, he collected some spores, vines, even some dirt and twigs to make it seem like he had tried. Nothing living. Of course, this and the fact that he didn’t see Eleven would probably mean another trip in the near future. _When is this going to end?_ Hopper wondered. _Will I be on the hook for the rest of my fucking life?_

 

As he climbed through the dank, pulsating veins of the portal and back into The Lab, Hopper tore off his mask, thirsty for fresh air. He handed the specimens to Dr. Owens and followed him into one of the experiment laboratories, a brightly lit room with white tile walls and a stainless steel examination table. 

 

“I appreciate you doing this for us,” Owens told Hopper.

 

“Don’t mention it,” Hopper muttered cooly. 

 

“Listen, I was going to wait to tell you, but now is as good a time as any.” Owens stepped out of the room briefly and came back with a manila file folder, handing it to Hopper.

 

“What am I looking at?” Hopper asked as he flipped through the pages.

 

“The U.S. Department of Energy has provided us with a grant for an Advanced Research Project. These specimens you brought back tonight will be a part of this groundbreaking study. _You_ are part of this groundbreaking study.”

 

Hopper looked up at Owens uneasily. “And what if I don’t want to be?”

 

“Here’s the exciting thing, something I think you’ll be very interested in.” He leaned over Hopper, flipping through the pages until he got to one. At the top, it said _Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia Research Project_. 

 

Hopper’s throat tightened. “What is this?”

 

“We’re hoping the Upside Down may hold the key to curing some forms of cancer. When applying for the grant, we were required to focus on a specific type to study, and I said leukemia, because what better way is there to honor your daughter? What we know so far is that scientists think there is a possibility that environmental factors can play a role in the development of leukemia, so we want to study the air in the Upside Down. What is it made of? Is it truly toxic? Can it lend clues to our own environment? We will also be studying samples you bring us. How are they affected by the atmosphere in the Upside Down? Do the creatures who live there develop cancer? If not, what kinds of evolutionary traits have they developed to protect against it?”

 

Hopper’s lips grew white as he pursed them together. He was unsure how to react. Part of him wanted to deck Owens for even bringing Sara up, but another part of him was appreciative of the gesture. 

 

“If I do this, do I have your word that you will only use these things for good? To study cures for cancer? Not for war? Not for some sick, twisted mind control shit?”

 

“As I’ve said before, that was Dr. Brenner’s thing. I have no interest. I’m on your side, Jim. I think you, as well as I, want to see something negative turned into something positive.” 

 

“And what if I say no? What if I’m just done with all of this?”

 

“I would totally understand, but not everyone would. There are still people here who were very loyal to Dr. Brenner and hated to see him go. Now, of course I wouldn’t condone this, but there may be some who would be very angry with you for breaking your agreement. I wouldn’t be able to protect you. I wouldn’t be able to protect Joyce or her boys. Besides, I think you agree that our new focus is a large step in the right direction.”

 

As Hopper finally laid in bed while the sun began to rise, he thought through everything that had happened that evening. If he could have his way, he’d be done with the whole mess, but it wasn’t that simple. At least Owens seemed like a decent enough guy. Maybe he really did have noble intentions. _Then why am I still so uneasy?_ he asked himself. 

 

He fell into a fitful sleep.


	4. Lost and Found

_It is love; love, the comfort of the human species,_

_the preserver of the universe, the soul of all sentient beings, love, tender love._

_—Voltaire, Candide_

 

Hopper woke to the sound of the phone ringing. He looked at his watch and groaned. Late for work. He hadn’t made it to bed until five a.m. and was supposed to work at eight. It was now ten. Probably Flo, the office receptionist, calling, wondering where the hell he was. 

 

“I thought we were done with this,” Flo lectured when he got to the station.

 

“Long night?” a co-worker asked.

 

“Yeah. Your mom seemed pretty pleased, though.” He shut the door behind him and sank into his chair. Now he’d have to stay until eight. It was going to be a long day. 

……………

 

As Hopper was getting ready to leave for the evening, his phone rang. “It better not be them again,” he grumbled, as he picked up. 

 

“Hopper!” the person on the other line cried. “Something’s happened. I need you over here. Please hurry.”

 

_Joyce._

 

“I’m on my way right now,” Hopper assured her as he rushed out the door. 

 

When he got to the Byers’ house, he bolted through the front door, ready for anything. The living room was dimly lit. Will, a miniature copy of Joyce, sat on the old, worn couch. He was nervously twisting his shirt while Jonathan paced the room, repeatedly brushing his light brown hair out of his eyes. Joyce sat crosslegged on the floor, a bundle curled in her lap. She held her face close as she rocked and whispered, “It’s okay, baby, you’re safe now. We’re going to keep you safe, sweetie.” 

 

Hopper couldn’t mistake the tattered and faded pink dress and muddied tube socks. “Eleven,” he choked. 

 

“She hasn’t said a word. And she is so, so thin,” Joyce stammered, voice cracking. It was true. The girl had been thin already, but her dress just hung from her bones. Her dark hair had grown in from when it was shaved, but barely. _Probably the malnutrition_ , Hopper theorized. She was wearing the same clothes from a year ago, now threadbare and torn. From what he could see, she had open sores sprayed across her ghostly legs, so probably elsewhere, too. “I’ve tried feeding her, but she won’t eat. I think she’s in shock,” Joyce pleaded.

 

Hopper snapped into action. “Run a warm bath for her and get her cleaned up. Will, go grab some of your sweats. And Joyce, while she’s in the bath, examine her sores and make sure none are infected. Bandage them up before dressing her. Jonathan, heat some soup up on the stove. She may not be able to eat, but I’m going to see if I can get some calories into her.”

 

Everyone did as they were told. There was an unspoken agreement that Eleven would stay there for the night. The hospital would be too dangerous a place for her. Hopper managed to get her to drink some of the soup before laying her down in Joyce’s bed. 

 

“Mike?” El whispered suddenly, searching for Karen Wheeler’s son. Mike had been Eleven’s best friend, and they had battled the Demogorgon together. That was all before she was thrown back into the Upside Down. 

 

“Shhh, sweetheart. You’ll see Mike in time. Right now, you just need to focus on getting some rest.” Joyce said. “I’ll be in shortly. I promise.”

 

It was now eleven o’clock. Will and Jonathan had turned in for the night, and Joyce and Hopper sat on the couch. 

 

“I’ll take care of her,” Joyce stated resolutely. “Once we nurse her back to health, she can start school and begin some semblance of a normal life.”

 

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Hopper said gently. “There are people looking for her. I have a feeling they won’t let you do that.”

 

“Let me? _Well—”_ Joyce could be a bit bullheaded. 

 

“I just think there are people who know what they are dealing with better than you do. Who know how to deal with her special needs.”  
  
Joyce’s eyes widened. “You mean The _Lab_? Over my dead body!” Her voice rose sharply. “I can’t believe you would even consider that, Hopper! You saw what they did to her.”

 

“It’s not the same. I know Dr. Brenner treated her horribly—”

 

“You mean stealing her from her own mother to do experiments on her, keeping her locked up in that God-forsaken place, not letting her interact with another soul for twelve years, and forcing her to call that monster of a man Papa? Yeah, I’d say horrible is an understatement.” 

 

“As I was saying, Brenner is not there. They have a new head, Dr. Owens, and he really seems to want to help. I probably shouldn’t even be telling you as much as I am, but I want you to know that I would never intentionally hurt El.” He paused. “Or you.”

 

Joyce studied his eyes. “This new head, do you completely trust him? Would you have trusted _Sara’s_ life with him?” 

 

Hopper didn’t answer.

 

“Well, that’s all I need to know.” She turned away to briefly check on Eleven. “I’m going to bed. Honestly, I don’t care if you sleep on the couch or if you leave, but turning El in to The Lab is not up for discussion.” She retired to her room and closed the door. 

 

Hopper wanted to believe that Owens was genuine. It was the only way he could put this whole mess behind him. But that was the sticking point. Even if he did assist in turning Eleven back over to The Lab, would it be over? Would it ever be over? He wasn’t so sure. 

……………

 

Hopper woke up the next morning to dusty rays of sunshine penetrating the blinds and a sharp pain in his neck. He grimaced, lifting his head and looked around the corner to see Joyce smiling and El carefully stepping out of the bedroom. 

 

“She’s up,” Joyce beamed. El placed herself gingerly on the couch while Joyce busied herself making breakfast in the kitchen. Hopper offered to help. “I wasn’t sure if you’d end up staying or not,” Joyce admitted.

 

“I told you I want to help.”

 

“I think we have different ideas of what that means.”

 

“No, I’ll support you,” he sighed, knowing full well that there would be consequences for his decision. 

 

“Oh, shit! Bob is supposed to stop over this morning. He’s taking the boys and me to see Terminator.”

 

“Bob?” Hopper asked, almost regretting it. 

 

“Yeah, we’ve been dating since we reconnected at the Halloween party.”

 

A lump formed in Hopper’s throat. “That’s great,” he replied, swallowing his chagrin. “Must be super exciting listening to him explain the various complexities of television sets and radios.” 

 

“Stop!” Joyce lightly hit Hopper’s chest, causing his heart to skip. “He talks about more than just his job. He’s really into…trains.”

 

Hopper stifled a laugh. “Trains?” Joyce aimed her hand again, but Hopper caught it before she could smack him. They both paused for a moment. _God, I could admire those gorgeous brown eyes all day…_

 

“Hey, Mom, I’m up,” Jonathan called out as he walked into the kitchen, causing Joyce and Hopper to spring apart. 

 

“Hi, sweetie. So I was thinking…Bob doesn’t need to know about El just yet. I’d prefer it if you drive Will over to his place and go to the movie from there. Even better if you can convince him to not stop over at all today.”

 

“I can do that.” Jonathan eyed Hopper warily.

 

 _Everything’s cool_ , Hopper tried to convey.

 

“Will you be okay? Do you need me to stay?” Jonathan asked.

 

“No, that would seem odd and probably tip Bob off,” Joyce said, seemingly unaware of the silent exchange going on between Hopper and her son. 

 

She picked up the phone, wrapping the cord around her hand absentmindedly as she dialed Bob’s number. “Hi, honey. Good morning to you, too. I’m actually feeling pretty under the weather this morning. Yeah, a pretty bad headache and sore throat. Jonathan and Will still want to go to the movie if you’re up for it. They can drive to you. Uh huh. No, you don’t need to come over to take care of me. I’d rather not get you sick. Yes, I’ll be fine. Promise. Okay, bye.” 

 

Hopper shook his head, out of sight of Joyce.

 

Once everyone had eaten and the boys left for the movie, Joyce began cleaning up the dishes from breakfast. “Hey, let me help you,” Hopper said, getting up from his chair. But before he could grab a rag, a blood-curdling scream caused them to jump out of their skins. 

 

“No! No! Don’t! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” El sobbed. 

 

Joyce ran over to comfort her, but was thrown back into the cupboards with such force that one of the cabinet doors cracked. Hopper rushed over, cradling her in his arms. She was awake, just stunned. 

 

El burst into tears, now aware of her surroundings. “I’m sorry, I thought…I thought…you were…”

 

“—the Demogorgon,” Hopper finished.

 

“No.” El stared, eyes wide. “Other monster.”


	5. The Upside Down

 

_My Mommy always said there were no monsters-no real ones-but there are._

_Yes, there are, aren’t there?_

_Why do they tell little kids that?_

_Most of the time, it’s true._

_—Ripley and Newt, Aliens_

 

It was cold. Always cold and always dark. The shadows scared her, but she had to be brave. She desperately longed to be back with her friends, and even Papa was better than this. Her heart ached for human contact. After awhile, she found she couldn’t cry anymore. She drank dirty river water and ate whatever she could scrounge. But eventually, it wasn’t enough. She remembered seeing the Demogorgon eat something. _What was it?_ An egg. 

 

El came across one while scavenging. The large and sickly greenish pits almost put her off, but she was hungry. So, so hungry. She cracked a small hole in the shell and peeled it back as amniotic fluid oozed out. She plunged her face in, sucking up the salty, foul liquid until satiated. 

 

Sometimes, El heard voices. Soft and murmuring, warm and comforting. She wasn’t sure if they were real or a figment of her imagination, but they provided hope, nonetheless. Her nightmares were a different story. Filled with terrifying creatures, looming over her and threatening her fragile being. Eyeless leeches, bubbling fetid secretions, slithering toward her with gaping mouths. Spider like creatures, rustling, creeping, yawning face of fangs.

 

As El sat her weary body down to eat yet another egg, she sensed something approach from behind. She turned and came face to face with hell itself. Her shriek pierced through time and space as she reached out her hand, willing herself away from the monster. The air cracked open around her, and she found herself being quickly sucked away, violently stopped by a tree. She had no idea how long she lay there or if she were alive. _This is it. The end. Whatever comes next…anything…better than this._ She fell unconscious. 

 

El woke to a murmuring voice, similar to the ones that gave her the determination to keep going while trapped in the Upside Down. As she cracked her eyes open, she saw the figure of a woman hovered over her, a halo of light drawing attention to the red in her hair. The voice spoke softly, comfortingly, as small but strong arms picked her up and placed her in the back of a car. When she next woke, she found herself in the arms of Joyce Byers.


	6. The Superheroes

_There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other,_

_and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them._

_—J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone_

 

“Are you gonna be okay?” Hopper asked that afternoon. Joyce held a cold compress to her head. A welt had formed several hours ago and it still hurt. 

 

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” She glanced over at Eleven, who was sitting on the couch watching Diff’rent Strokes. “Please don’t be long.”

 

“I’ll be back as soon as humanly possible.” And he meant it.  

 

Although Hopper was anxious to stay at the Byers’, he had to go to the station, at least for a little bit. He just knew _they_ would call him if he dallied there too long. Eleven’s run-in with an unknown monster had him thinking that Dr. Owens’ assignment couldn’t have been a coincidence. He must have been aware of something that Hopper wasn’t. 

 

Right on cue, as he was packing up to leave, the phone rang. “Fucking shit,” Hopper mumbled as he picked up. 

 

“I’m sure you’re busy, as usual, but we have another assignment for you.” 

……………

 

Hopper sat in his truck a minute before starting it. Dr. Owens had told him that creatures were being sighted around Hawkins. “We can’t have that,” he explained. “This needs to be kept under wraps, and I need you to take care of it.” _How_ exactly he was supposed to take care of it, he didn’t know. Because The Lab kept their portal to the Upside Down heavily monitored, Owens speculated that another portal had formed somewhere. He didn’t say as much, but Hopper knew he was thinking about Eleven. Which meant Owens would have his guys combing Hawkins looking for her. He decided to head to the Byers’ first. 

 

When Hopper walked in the door, an axe whizzed past his face, missing it by mere inches. “What the fuck!” he barked. 

 

Joyce stood there, looking sheepish. “Sorry, I thought you were one of those _things_.”

 

Hopper sighed heavily as he rubbed the space between his eyes. “Joyce, you’re gonna have to be more specific than that.” He took notice of Jonathan’s bat and Will’s slingshot. Eleven sat on the couch in silence. 

 

“I went out to the shed to find some batteries and came across one of those slug things. From…”

 

Hopper knew that instant what she meant. “Okay, where is it now?” he asked, intending to put an end to it.

 

“She already killed it,” Jonathan answered. 

 

Hopper eyed Joyce. “Oh yeah?” The amusement was written all over his face.

 

“I can take care of myself, you know!”

 

Hopper held his hands up. “Okay, okay Wonder Woman. I concede.”

 

Their banter was interrupted by Eleven’s barely audible voice. “My fault.”

 

“What was that, sweetheart?” Joyce asked. 

 

“My fault.” 

 

“What’s your fault?”

 

“Monsters. New portal.”

 

“Wait, so there _is_ a new portal?” Hopper inquired. “Where is it?”

 

 _How did you know?_ Joyce mouthed at Hopper, distrust in her eyes. 

 

“Mirkwood.” 

 

“Do you know how to close it back up, sweetie?” Joyce asked.

 

“No.”

 

“Well, I am going to investigate. Maybe I can figure something out. Kill some of those things along the way,” Hopper said.

 

“I’m coming with you,” Joyce stated firmly. 

 

“No way in hell. You’re staying right here with the kids. They need an adult. Even better, put them in the car and drive them to a hotel in Indianapolis. You’ll be safer there.” He said this knowing full well the likelihood of Owens paying them a visit. 

 

“Hop, I want those things dead. After what they’ve done to Will and Eleven, I want to burn the whole thing to the ground. I _will_ be going with you. Jonathan is capable of taking the kids to Indy. I am not going to sit around while you try to save the day all by yourself.” There was a steeliness in her voice that he had heard once before. 

 

“Okay, fine. But we’ve got to hurry.” He grabbed Jonathan’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. “Stay safe. There are people looking for El, so you need to be on your guard. Protect her, and protect your brother.” He handed Jonathan his pistol. 

 

“Oh, Hop, I don’t know…” Joyce protested.

 

“I can handle it, Mom,” Jonathan said unwaveringly. 

 

“Okay. Be smart. I know you will.” She pulled him into an embrace. 

 

“Joyce! Let’s go!”

 

She ignored Hopper as she gave hugs to Will and El. 

 

“ _Joyce! NOW!_ ”

 

She shot Hopper a glare as they watched the kids get into Jonathan’s car and head for Indianapolis. 

……………

 

“Mirkwood. Here we are. I guess we look around for, you know, a giant stringy hole churning out monsters? Shouldn’t be hard to find.” 

 

“And what are we going to do when we find it?”

 

Hopper flashed the spare pistol he had retrieved from his glove compartment. 

 

“No offense, but I don’t think your gun or your right hook are going to close the portal.”

 

“Do you have any better ideas? You insisted your presence would be beneficial, after all.”

 

Joyce averted her eyes, and Hopper knew he had hurt her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m glad to have you here.”

 

“You know what? Just don’t talk to me. Let’s see what we can do about this situation, and then we’ll be out of each other’s lives. Okay?”

  
It was Hopper’s turn to feel wounded. That’s not what he wanted. At all. It was just that Joyce could be so _stubborn_ sometimes…

 

“That’s not what I want.”

 

Before Joyce could respond, she lost her balance and fell backward into a shallow burrow, crying out in pain. 

 

“Did you break it?” Hopper inspected her calf and found deep crimson trickling down the back. “What the—” A mouthful of bloody fangs lunged at him. He flung the spider-like creature into a tree, whipped out his gun, and killed it with one shot. 

 

“That thing bit me!” Joyce shrieked. 

 

Hopper turned in a circle, gun still drawn. “And I’m guessing there are more where that came from.” He swung sharply toward rustling leaves, but instead of a demon-spider, it was only a rabbit. As he relaxed his gun, a figure only slightly smaller than the rabbit pounced, causing a blur of brown, black, fur, and spindly legs. The rabbit squealed and gurgled as it turned into a matted mess of fur and blood. 

 

“Hopper, shoot it!”

 

He broke out of his daze and killed the creature on the first shot. Walking back over to Joyce, he inspected her calf once more to find that most of the bleeding had stopped. The bite was large, but shallow. He helped her onto her feet. 

 

“You think these are the only things we’re dealing with?”

 

“I suspect not.” Hopper walked a little farther, shielding Joyce with his large frame as she followed. 

 

Joyce wrinkled her nose. “What is that smell? That better not be you,” she said, trying to lighten the mood. 

 

“Nope, not me.” He pointed. “That.” About twenty feet away in the hollow of a tree, it stood. The portal. It churned and groaned, almost as if alive. Viscous rope-like veins hung over the cavity, embedding themselves in the bark of the tree. 

 

“What now?” Joyce lit a cigarette, mostly out of nervousness. 

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Hop, there’s something moving.”

 

“What do you mean?” The portals always looked like they were moving. 

 

“Not the portal. There.” Joyce pointed off a short distance into the woods. More spider-like creatures. About five this time. 

 

“Shit. Joyce, stay back.” 

 

“I can handle myself, thanks.”

  
  
“I’m not the one who forgot to bring a weapon.”

 

“I only forgot because you were yelling at me!”

 

While the two bickered, one creature managed to wrap it’s gangly leg around Hopper’s foot. “Shit shit shit!” he yelled, stomping on it’s head with the other foot. When it let go of its grip, he kicked it into a tree and blasted it with his gun. “I think that scared ‘em. The rest are retreating.”

 

“Uhhhh, Hop?”

 

“Not now, Joyce. I’m kinda busy.”

 

“No, really.”

 

Hopper turned around, exasperated. “What, Joyce?”

 

“Run!”

 

Joyce said it too late. Hopper was knocked to the ground in a flash, searing pain to his shoulder. Thick claws sunk in and locked. A hot, sickly breath drooled down the back of his neck. He managed to turn his head and catch a brief glimpse of the powerfully muscled animal, wiry tufts of dark gray fur, and rows upon rows of sharp teeth. _No eyes, of course. Why don’t any of these things have eyes?_ He squeezed his own shut, resigning himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to survive this. His pistol had been knocked clear to another tree. This animal was much stronger than him. He just hoped Joyce…well, he hoped she wouldn’t remember him this way. He instantly regretted how short he had been with her. “Run, Joyce,” Hopper’s voice cracked. “ _Run_.”

 

A shot rang out, then two more. A deep wail reverberated through the forest air, and he felt the pressure lift. Hopper rolled over to his side, coughing violently. In his peripheral he saw Joyce, gun pointed, and the monster looming over her. “Hop, run!” Joyce screamed. He managed to push himself off the ground, but instead of running, he grabbed a nearby fallen branch. He used all of his remaining strength to smash the wolf-like creature in the head. 

 

The injured animal stirred. Joyce pulled the trigger but all they heard was a faint click. Hopper ran over to her, and that’s when he noticed the blaze. The last month in Hawkins had been very dry. Besides that, it was unusually warm and windy for January. Neither Joyce nor Hopper had considered this when Joyce lit her cigarette, and both were too distracted to notice the smoldering leaves where it had fallen from her mouth in the commotion. The forest floor lit up in a deep glow of orange as the flames followed the dry leaves. They looked at each other, and he knew they were thinking the same thing.

 

“On the count of three. One. Two. Three _._ ” Hopper and Joyce lunged at the monster, knocking it to the ground once more. Only this time, it fell into the fiery sea with a shriek as it lit up. It bounded for the portal, flames licking at and devouring its body.  Joyce and Hopper watched in amazement as the portal itself became an inferno. They were met with a powerful blast that sent them reeling backward. As they scrambled to their feet, the earth crackled and popped around them. The fire was too close for comfort. 

 

“We need to haul ass. To my truck. Now!” Hopper instructed. Joyce didn’t argue this time. 

 

He threw the Blazer into drive and hightailed it back to the road, tires squealing. “I’m not too thrilled about that forest fire, but I think it will take care of most of those things. Any other stragglers we can easily take care of ourselves.” 

 

“Do you think that wolf, or whatever it was, was the monster that El saw? When she accidentally made the portal?”

 

“It must’ve been. I can’t believe she survived all that for a year. That girl is something special.”

 

“Let’s get back to the house. Hopefully Jonathan will call and we can meet them in Indy.” Joyce glanced down at the dried blood on her leg and various scratches and scrapes that splayed across her body. Hopper looked worse.

 

“Good idea. I assume you have liquor? I need a drink.”


	7. Closer

 

_Spinning on that dizzy edge_

_I kissed her face and kissed her head_

_And dreamed of all the different ways I had_

_To make her glow_

_Why are you so far away, she said_

_Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you_

_That I'm in love with you_

_You_

_Soft and only_

_You_

_Lost and lonely_

_You_

_Strange as angels_

_Dancing in the deepest oceans_

_Twisting in the water_

_You're just like a dream_

_You're just like a dream_

_Daylight licked me into shape_

_I must have been asleep for days_

_And moving lips to breathe her name_

_I opened up my eyes_

_And found myself alone, alone_

_Alone above a raging sea_

_That stole the only girl I loved_

_And drowned her deep inside of me_

_—The Cure_

 

“Okay, well, stay safe. We’ll meet you in the morning. Nine a.m. in the lobby. Try to get a good night’s rest.” Joyce got off the phone with Jonathan. He had assured her that everything was fine, but that the hotel was booked solid. It would be best if she met them the following day. 

 

Joyce settled onto the couch next to Hopper. She had let Hopper bandage her leg fifteen minutes prior, after she got out of the shower. She now donned emerald green silk pajama shorts and one of Jonathan’s Clash t-shirts. The shorts, Hopper noticed, were slit high up on the sides, something he tried to avert his eyes from. 

 

He sat shirtless next to Joyce. His shoulder had been badly gashed, so Joyce had taken care of that with gauze and medical tape. In addition, he had sustained a superficial head injury and some deeper cuts from the explosion. He nursed his tumbler of whiskey. 

 

“I can’t believe we never thought of fire.” Joyce broke the silence. “I remember Will and his friends talking about how a large concentration of energy creates the portals, so it would make sense that fire could close them.”

 

“Yeah, I didn’t think of it, either. Though I’m not sure it was the fire itself that did it. Possibly the monster-fire combo, otherwise we’d have portals everywhere. In any case, I hope it’s closed for good. And now maybe The Lab can use this new knowledge to close its portal once and for all.” _Except they won’t want to, because of the research project._

 

Joyce’s head snapped quickly toward Hopper. “Speaking of. I guess now is as good a time as any to talk about this. Seeing as I said I wasn’t going to talk to you anymore, and yet, here we are.”

 

Hopper sighed heavily. “Look, I want to tell you. Believe me, I do.”

 

“Hop, the way I see it, if you’re working with them, you’re one of the bad guys. It seems incompatible with who you really are. We’ve known each other since middle school. You saved my son’s life. You’re special to me.” 

 

Hopper swallowed. 

 

“But I can’t deal with the secrets. The walls you build up. If we’re going to be friends, you can’t hold me at a distance.”

 

“What if The Lab isn’t all bad?”

 

“Then you wouldn’t feel the need to keep secrets from me. Or give Jonathan your gun,” she added.

 

Hopper pondered this for a moment. It was true that Brenner and his team were as villainous as any people he’d ever met. But then Owens took over. And even though he wanted to trust him, wanted to believe that he had Eleven’s best interests in mind, he still had this nagging feeling. Why did he still feel it was unsafe to tell Joyce? Brenner had wanted to end her after she threatened to go to the press with The Lab’s involvement in mind control experiments and kidnapping, but that was Brenner. _Maybe I should trust my gut instead of what I hope to be true._ It sure as hell turned out to be right when he decided to trust Joyce Byers and her outlandish conspiracy theory about a monster coming out of walls and taking people into another dimension. _Joyce has always been good at trusting her gut. I’ve never been as good at reading what’s right in front of me._

 

“You’re right.” 

 

Joyce’s eyes widened at this confession. She’d been waiting a whole year to hear the story, and Hopper was finally going to tell her. 

 

“Before I start, you have to promise you won’t be angry. I just want you to know up front that you and Will were the most important people to me last November. My top priority. I did some shitty things, but I was only trying to protect your family. And the more you know, the more potential danger you’re in.”

 

“Okay, okay, I get it. Tell me.”

 

“On the night we went into the Upside Down to find Will, we left the rest of the kids at the middle school.”

 

“I remember.”

 

“You’ll also remember that I just waltzed into Hawkins Lab, pretty much expecting to be caught. That’s because I knew the only way they’d let us into the Upside Down was if I could make a deal with them.” He glanced at Joyce with bated breath. 

 

“Hopper, what did you do? What deal did you make?” 

 

“I told them where they could find Eleven.”

 

“You fucking bastard! How _could_ you?” She leapt off the couch and paced behind it, hand to her mouth. 

 

“Joyce. My top priority was to get Will. It was either turn Eleven in and hope that she had the wits to get away or to leave Will. I made what I felt was the best choice in the moment.” He stood to meet her where she was.

 

“And why do you still go there? What’s in it for you?” 

 

“The first deal was that I would tell them where Eleven was in exchange for access to the portal. The second deal was that I would work for them so long as they agreed to never go after you and your family.”

 

Joyce’s eyes filled with tears, threatening to spill over. “But El! No one, and I mean not one adult has been kind to her in her thirteen years.” She thrust her pointed index finger into Hopper’s chest. “I’ve tried to be that person, but she should have been able to trust you, too.”

 

The poking was making Hopper increasingly agitated, as much as he tried to remain calm. He gently but firmly grabbed Joyce’s hand to make her stop.

 

“Don’t _touch_ me! Don’t touch me!”

 

He’d had as much as he could handle. “You touched me first.”

 

“Fuck you, Hopper.”

 

“Oh, that’s original. Maybe if you weren’t so stubborn, I could have solved this mess a long time ago. Maybe I wouldn’t have seven fucking bandages all over my body right now!”

 

“I saved _your_ life, remember?”

 

“Yeah, but maybe you were distracting me!”

 

“ _Distracting_ you? How?” They were face to face now, as close as two people could get at a one foot height difference. 

 

“ _God_ , Joyce. Why do you do this to me?” 

 

Silence. 

 

He explored her eyes for a sign. Anything. Nothing. 

 

“Uhhhh…I’m gonna go sit on the couch and hope that it swallows me up.” His face burned with embarrassment. 

 

“Wait, Hop…” Joyce’s delicate hand reached for his. 

 

In an instant, he had her against the wall, his mouth ravenously exploring hers. She instinctively tensed up for a second before relaxing into the kiss, mirroring his eagerness. He took in her soft pink lips, her active tongue, her cute little ears, the groove of her collarbone. Her hair smelled like the lavender shampoo she had just used, and he buried his face in it. “I’ve wanted this for a whole year,” Hopper groaned, resting his forehead against hers. 

 

“If I’m honest, I have, too,” Joyce sighed. 

 

“You’re so beautiful. And amazing. And I’m just a fuck up.”

 

“Hop? Let’s not talk right now. We’ll have time for that, later.” She pressed her lips against his. He grabbed her ass and lifted her, carrying her to the couch. He flopped down into a sitting position, Joyce straddling him, pressing kisses to his neck and chest as she ran her hands through his light puff of chest hair. 

 

Hopper slid his hands up her thighs until he reached her shorts. “Mmm, these are nice,” he mumbled, caressing the silky fabric. 

 

Joyce cocked a mischievous grin. 

 

“Wait, you did this on purpose? You’re bad, Joyce. Bad.” She grinned and bit his shoulder, making him yelp. He teasingly pushed her down on the couch and leaned over her, peppering her with kisses. She wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers running though his dark blond hair, pulling him closer. His hand slid up her shirt, and his stomach leapt when he discovered she was not wearing a bra. He tweaked her nipple and was rewarded with happy affirmations. _I can’t believe this is happening right now._

 

Hopper had felt the sexual tension between them for awhile, and he suspected Joyce did, as well. It all started after they rescued Will. _Hell, maybe even before that_ , he thought. They began a weekly tradition of getting coffee and hashing out everything that had happened. It had been therapeutic for both. _But then I had to go and screw things up by keeping secrets. I should have just been honest with her in the first place. I was only trying to protect her._ But there they were, finally doing what should have been done a long time ago. And damn _,_ it felt great, the honesty _and_ the fooling around. But they had to progress beyond second base, or he thought he might explode.

 

“Do you want to take this to the bedroom?” he murmured into her ear. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

 

Joyce gazed at him, deep brown eyes filled with desire. “Hop, I want you to take me into that bedroom and fuck me stupid.” He sharply exhaled. “I need it. I need _you_.”

 

He lifted her up once more, wincing from the pain in his shoulder. “Are you okay?” Joyce asked.

 

“I’m great.” He said between clenched teeth. His lips sloppily met hers as he carried Joyce to her bedroom. 

 

Once in bed, Joyce grabbed frantically at Hopper’s belt, but he stilled her. “Easy, easy. Let’s take this slowly.” He lifted Joyce’s shirt and marveled at her breasts.

 

Joyce became flustered by his gaze. “My boobs don’t look like they used to,” she said meekly, instinctively covering herself. 

 

“Joyce, you look amazing. See?” He put her hand against his cock. “That doesn’t lie.”

 

She relaxed as he pressed against her, kissing her face, hair, neck, anything he could get his lips on. He took his time as he moved down her body. Face in between her breasts. Nipple in mouth. Slowly licking down her stomach, kissing her hips, until he got to what he really wanted. He slowly rubbed his fingers between her legs, and his cock twitched when he felt her soaked shorts. He pressed his lips to the silky satin, causing Joyce to arch and moan.

 

“Just tell me what you want and don’t want. I want this to be enjoyable for both of us.” 

 

“Hop, I need you inside of me,” she said desperately. 

 

She propped her lower half up as Hopper removed the last of her clothing and kissed her inner thighs, his beard lightly scratching her delicate skin. Joyce cried out in frustration, until, finally, he slid two fingers in and began pumping them, stroking in and out, while exploring her with his mouth. 

 

“Actually, that angle kind of hurts,” she said. 

 

“What about this?” He moved his fingers in a slightly different direction, and she sighed. 

 

“That feels good.”

 

He loved everything about her. The way she smelled. The way she tasted. How she writhed around and moaned as he went down on her. How, when he would hit a certain spot, she would involuntarily twitch. And now, how her legs were beginning to shake ever so slightly. He continued the rhythm he had going with his fingers and found her clit with his mouth. He sucked and nibbled at it, practically causing Joyce to go into a frenzy. 

 

Her body tensed up, then relaxed into Hopper’s face as she groped for his hair, latching her fingers around his thinning strands. “Oh fuck, Hop!” She rode the wave back down and let out a satisfied sigh.

 

Hopper grinned at her. “I like that better than ‘fuck you’”. 

 

Joyce squirmed toward Hopper, pinching him playfully. He brushed her face, kissing her long and deep. 

 

There was a pause as Hopper unbuckled his belt. Joyce waited in eager anticipation as he slid the rest of his clothes off, cock sprung to attention. She was not disappointed. 

 

He grinned, kissing her as he dug for his wallet in his pants, flinging them haphazardly across the room once he found what he wanted. He pulled a condom out of his wallet.

 

“You came prepared.” Joyce smirked. 

 

“Always gotta be prepared.” He slipped it on and positioned himself over Joyce. Slowly, he lowered himself, and she gasped as he entered her. “You okay?”

 

“Very,” she replied.

 

“You go when you’re ready.”

 

Joyce took a few seconds to gather her bearings before rocking her hips into his. He matched her movement, sliding in and out to Joyce’s muffled moans as she buried her face in his chest. 

 

They started out passionately slow, but it didn’t take long for the intensity to amp up. Before long, Hopper had Joyce pushed up against the headboard into a near sitting position. 

 

“Oh God, Joyce you feel so good! You’re so fucking hot, I can’t stand it!” He thrust into her, desperately craving every bit of her. She clawed at his back and bit his chest, sure to add marks to his already scraped up body. He growled in response, pinching her tits, which caused her to yelp and become wetter.

 

“Harder. Faster, Hop!” Joyce cried, squeezing his ass and pulling him in.

 

“I’m going as hard as I can.” 

 

“Just don’t stop what you’re doing—oh God, yes!” Hopper leaned into her orgasm, his forehead pressed against hers, eyes trained on her face. Joyce’s gasping, parted lips, and flushed face caused him to come hard, gasping along with Joyce and murmuring expletives. 

 

Once they stilled, he rolled onto his back, heart pounding as he attempted to catch his breath. Hopper leaned over and propped himself up on his elbow. He ran his fingers through Joyce’s damp hair and leaned over to kiss her forehead. 

 

“Hop, you’re sweaty.” Joyce smiled, playfully pushing him away.

 

“You are, too.” 

 

“I needed that.”

 

“Don’t you get it from Bob?”

 

That was the wrong thing to say. 

 

Joyce sat up sharply and fixed her eyes on Hopper, lips pursed together. “What are you accusing me of? I’m not a slut.”

 

“I never said you were! I shouldn’t have brought it up. I speak out of my ass, sometimes.”

 

“I don’t do stuff like this. I mean, I never have before. That was Lonnie’s m.o.” 

 

“I hear you. I’m not judging you. Lord knows if anyone deserves judging, it’s me.” Hopper took Joyce’s hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “I don’t want this to be a one-and-done deal. I want to be with you. All of you. You’re passionate, funny, emotional, empathetic, completely beautiful, and stubborn as all get out. You’re incredible, Joyce, and I should have been honest with you a year ago. About all of it. You inspire me to be a better person. I don’t deserve you. But I’m trying.” 

 

“No.”

 

That icy word pierced Hopper’s insides, ripping them loose to fall to the pit of his stomach. His heart twisted in knots. “No?”

 

“Not this way. It’s too complicated. I care about Bob. I’m _with_ Bob. He’s nice and goes out of his way to do things with the boys. He’s been stable for awhile.” 

 

Hopper frowned. He wished Joyce could see how hard he had worked, but perhaps all she saw was the man from a year ago, popping pills, sleeping around, and getting drunk on a regular basis. _Hell, I still do some of those things. Maybe not as often, but that’s not good enough. She went through hell with Lonnie. Maybe she doesn’t need an asshole like me fucking up her life, too._

 

“Does he love you?” Hopper asked.

 

“Do you love me?”

 

A long silence ensued while Hopper tried to translate his feelings into something Joyce would understand. “I haven’t said those words since I said them to Sara on the day she died.” 

 

“Listen, Hop, we obviously have some chemistry going, but this can’t be a thing. Tomorrow, we will go meet the kids. You will go tell Oceans or Owens or whomever thank you but no thank you, and if he’s as good as you say he is, he’ll help you close up that portal while you assure him that El is well cared for, and he won’t bother you again. I will call Bob and tell him that I’m feeling better, and we will put this behind us. As a one-and-done, like you said. It shouldn’t be too difficult. You’re used to it.”

 

 _But that’s them, and you’re you. I lie to myself every damn day, telling myself that I’m not lonely, but I am_. _I fucking_ am _. God, I miss her so much. You’re the only thing I’ve cared about since then._

 

“I’m not going to argue with you, Joyce. I care about you a lot, and not just as friends. I promise I won’t try anything after today. I shouldn’t have tonight, even though I don’t regret it. But I want you to know that if you ever change your mind, or something happens between you and Bob, I will absolutely be on board. If you are.”

 

“Thanks, Hop. That means a lot. Maybe if things were different. The night’s not over, and I’d really like it if you slept next to me. I’d feel safer after everything that happened tonight.”

 

“Joyce, you’re seriously killing me right now,” Hopper joked, though there was some truth in it. A lot of truth in it. 

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“No, I will.” 

 

Joyce set the alarm for six-forty-five a.m., snuggled back into the crook of Hopper’s arm, and sighed. 

 

“You okay?”

 

“Yeah, just trying to enjoy this before we go back to normal tomorrow.”

 

Did he love her? Why would she ask him that? Those were loaded words. Words he hadn’t uttered in five years. Likely one of the myriad of reasons Diane had left him after Sara’s death. He shouldn’t have to say those words to prove he cared about someone. That’s what actions were for. And he felt like he did a pretty damn good job showing it to Joyce that night. But it wasn’t enough. He had been kind of a shit head for most of the last year. He had not been so hot at portraying the stability that Joyce said she needed. He would try harder. This thing with Bob wouldn’t last forever. By the time it was over, he would have had the time to prove his trustworthiness. Or so he hoped, anyway.


	8. The Confrontation

_Everything is Everything_

_What is meant to be, will be_

_After winter, must come spring_

_Change, it comes eventually._

_—Lauryn Hill_

 

It was six a.m. when Joyce woke, curled against Hopper’s chest, clothes still strung about the room. She watched his sleeping face for a bit, how his eyelids fluttered while he dreamed, mouth cocked open, softly snoring. He looked peaceful for a change. 

 

She didn’t know what it was like to lose a child. She could take a pretty good stab, but in the end, she had gotten her son back. He hadn’t gotten his daughter. She, like Hopper, had also lost a marriage, but not with someone she deeply cared about like he did. Joyce thought herself strong. She had dealt with some serious shit in her life, but Hopper’s shit was no contest. She admired his determination to work through his vices. _Maybe that says more about a person than someone who hasn’t had to work through anything at all, really. When one goes to hell and back, it takes incredible strength to pull through. But Jonathan and Will,_ she thought. _I might be able to handle Hopper’s baggage, but what about them? They, more than anyone else, need someone who is stable. Especially because I can’t consistently be. For once, they need to see their mom with someone who has his shit together, and Hop just doesn’t._

 

Her mind drifted to the events of the night before. He had been so attentive, so concerned with her enjoyment. _And I could tell it was totally genuine_ , she thought. _Must be why I felt so comfortable being vocal._ This was not something she was used to. Lonnie had been fairly selfish in bed. Her insecurities had grown worse once he started cheating on her. _And here I am, doing the same thing to Bob,_ she lamented. Bob was okay in bed, in no way as selfish as Lonnie, but not particularly attentive, either. But Hopper? She wouldn’t be surprised if the man worshipped at the altar of her pussy. She found herself wondering if he was like that with all his lovers. Truth be told, it was the best sex she’d had in her life. And that made her uncomfortable.

 

Hopper stirred and rolled over as his arm wrapped around Joyce’s chest. She decided to relax and enjoy being spooned by this bear of a man. His hand grazed ever so lightly along her arm, and she felt safe.

 

They awoke fifteen minutes later, startled, to a knock at the door, then the sound of a scraping key and deadbolt turning. 

 

“Oh my God,” Joyce mumbled, frozen with dread.

 

Hopper sat straight up. “Who the fuck is that? Who has a key?” he whispered urgently. “Joyce, does _Bob_ have a key?”

 

“Oh my God.”

 

“Shit, Joyce! Don’t just lie there. Help me grab my clothes!”

 

And that’s how Bob Newby caught Joyce and Hopper in bed. 

 

“You said you weren’t feeling well, so I brought this…” Bob’s voice trailed off as he stood there, holding a breakfast casserole. 

 

“Bob, I can explain…”

 

“Not sure how explaining will make this situation better?”

 

Joyce stumbled out of bed and began collecting her clothes, throwing them on frantically. “Can we talk? Please. Let’s go in the other room and talk.” 

 

“While he sits comfortably in your bed?”

 

“No, he’ll get dressed. He has to stay, because the boys are in Indy, and we have to go pick them up in an hour and a half.”

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Joyce.”

 

“Please, let’s go talk.” She grabbed Bob by the arm and pulled him out the door. 

 

As soon as Bob was out of sight, Hopper grabbed his clothes. He threw them on, then sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. 

 

“I’m so, so sorry. This was a complete lapse in judgement. It never should have happened.” Joyce paced the room, doing as much talking with her hands as she was with her mouth. 

 

“But it did happen, Joyce. I don’t understand. I thought you were happy with me. Were you lying yesterday when you said you were sick? Was he here then, too?”

 

Joyce looked down. “Yes.”

 

“So you had your _boys_ in on this, as well?”

 

“Bob, it’s not like that—”

 

“I like to think that I’m a nice guy. I don’t deserve this, Joyce.”

 

“I know. I know.”

 

“And with _him_ of all people.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“I haven’t been back in town that long, but I’ve been hearing things through the rumor mill. Same old Hawkins, can’t keep its mouth shut. It would seem that Hopper has a sex addiction.”

 

“No, Bob, that’s just not true—”

 

“And he suckered you into it. Damn, Joyce, I thought you were smarter than that. I really did. You know, I’ve been hearing things about you, too.”

 

And then she saw it. That pitying look. _How pathetic is Joyce Byers, anyway?_

 

Bob shook his head, smirking. “I mean, monsters? Talking lights? What the hell? You were quirky in high school, but this is too much.”

 

“I am not who I was in high school,” Joyce asserted, clenching her fists. “I am not your high school fantasy, Bob.”

 

“Certainly not. I feel like you led me on, to be honest. I mean, I did come over here to be nice, but, who am I kidding? This wouldn’t have lasted. I wouldn’t be able to handle all the crazy.”

 

Joyce wilted.

 

“Honestly, you really have to be crazy to have used Will and Jonathan in your little scheme to bang that son of a bitch. I feel sorry for them.”

 

“Don’t say that,” she whispered, eyes on the floor. 

 

“You’re a cunt, Joyce. Did that son of a bitch make you come? Did he?” He shook Joyce by the shoulders as she began to cry. “Answer me!” He slapped her across the face.

 

In an instant, Hopper was at Joyce’s side, and Bob was on the floor, nose bleeding, likely broken. As he tried to steady himself to stand, Hopper threw an uppercut to his jaw. 

 

“Don’t you _ever_ lay a hand on her again, you hear me? Get out. Now.”

 

Bob knew he couldn’t win in a fight against Hopper. He used the wall to help himself up and stumbled toward the door, holding his jaw, blood dripping from his nose.

 

“You’re _both_ crazy, you know that? I guess you deserve each other. Sex addicted son of a bitch and slutty cunt.”

 

“Don’t forget your fucking casserole, Bob!” Hopper threw the casserole out the door and slammed it, turning to Joyce. She wrapped her arms around him, sobbing.

 

“I can’t believe how much I’ve screwed up. What’ll I tell the boys?”

 

“Tell them the truth. That Bob hit you and you kicked his ass to the curb.”

 

“I could have handled it myself, you know,” she said, dejected.

 

“Yeah, I know.” Hopper put his arm around Joyce and guided her to the couch. “Why don’t you go take a warm shower, and I’ll make you breakfast. Then, we’ll go meet the kids.” 

 

Joyce found herself nodding, but she wasn’t quite sure what she was agreeing to. Hopper’s voice seemed distant. Her chest tightened, constricting her pounding heart. Tunnel vision ensued, and she thought she might vomit, pass out, or both. 

 

“Joyce, are you alright? You’re shaking.”

 

“Panic attack. Help me through it, Hop. Please,” Joyce pleaded. 

 

Hopper knew she dealt with anxiety, but he’d never been around during one of her attacks. Joyce wasn’t sure how he’d react.  

 

“I need air. I can’t breathe,” she gasped.

 

He led her out to the backyard and put a steady hand on her back. “Breathe, Joyce. Slow it down. In and out. In and out. Good.” 

 

“I need to lie down.”

 

“Go for it.”

 

Joyce lay on the concrete patio. The cold, hard ground felt soothing against her hot skin. Hopper sat next to her, holding her hand. “You’re okay, Joyce. Nothing bad is happening. I’m here with you. You’re doing great.” He seemed to express every affirming sentence he could think of. 

 

Slowly, Joyce relaxed and sat up, still shaking a little, but breathing much more regularly. She threw her arms around Hopper. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her like he was afraid to let go.

 

By the time they made it back inside the house, it was too late to do anything but grab a quick bite and head for Indianapolis. Joyce took a banana from the counter and snuck a coy smile at Hopper, who returned it in full. He leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead. _Maybe this is it. Maybe I can really start getting my life back together._

 

“Let’s talk in the car. I feel like we have a lot to talk about,” Joyce said.

 

Then the phone rang. Out of all the foreboding phone calls Hopper had experienced in the last year, this one would tear away each delicate thread he had worked so hard to repair. 

 

Hopper wrapped his arms around Joyce’s waist and kissed her neck playfully as she answered. 

 

“Stop!” she giggled. “Hello?”

 

“Mom. I killed someone. They took Eleven.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this before I knew the goodness that is *was* Bob Newby (RIP). Yes, I feel guilty, but I'm leaving it. Sorry, Bob.


	9. The Motel

 

_For with much wisdom comes much sorrow;_

_the more knowledge, the more grief._

_—Ecclesiastes_

 

“This is so fun!” Will exclaimed. “Can we stay up as late as we want? Please?”

 

Jonathan had found a decently priced motel on the north side of Indianapolis. He had just enough money left over to treat the kids to Steak and Shake for dinner. They had gotten shakes to go for dessert before heading back to the motel room.  

 

“Yeah, I suppose.” Jonathan smiled. “You guys have earned it.”

 

“Great! Let’s watch TV and jump on the bed!”

 

“Jump on the bed?” Jonathan laughed.

 

“Yeah! Mom doesn’t let us do it at home!” 

 

“Jumping on the bed it is, then!” 

 

As Will and Jonathan bounced as high as they could, Eleven sat on a faded orange chair in the corner finishing up her vanilla shake. She scratched at one of the sores on her leg absentmindedly as she watched the boys with interest. They erupted into a fit of giggles as they argued over who had gotten the highest jump. 

 

It was two o’clock a.m. before Will was finally asleep. Eleven had already been sleeping for four hours on a cot they had gotten from the front office. Jonathan flipped the TV off and crawled into bed next to his brother. He had called his mom several hours earlier, and they had agreed to meet in the lobby the following morning. He was relieved that she was okay and anxious to see her. 

 

The next morning, Jonathan woke early. Much too early for someone who had only slept for a few hours. He sensed something was wrong, but he wasn’t sure what. He glanced at Will, then Eleven. Both were still fast asleep. _Must be nothing,_ he thought as he pulled the covers back over himself. But then, he heard it. Whispering outside the door. He crawled out of bed and walked over to the peephole. What he saw made his stomach drop. 

 

Four men in black suits stood in the hall, whispering. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they looked an awful lot like the team of people who tore Hawkins apart looking for Eleven the previous year. Jonathan slowly backed up to the bed and shook Will awake. “Get up, now!” he whispered. “Don’t say anything. We’re in trouble.” 

 

As they were getting Eleven up, Jonathan heard a click. He ran to the bedside drawer where he had placed Hopper’s pistol and pointed it at the door, hands shaking, just as the men broke the lock and kicked the door open. 

 

Eleven screamed as one of the men grabbed her.

 

“Leave her alone!” Jonathan yelled, trembling. 

 

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll put that gun down and pretend like this whole thing never happened,” the man said. 

 

“El, use your powers!” Will screamed.

 

Eleven looked at Will with sadness in her eyes. “I don’t remember,” she whispered. 

 

“Look, boy, you don’t want to use that thing. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

 

Jonathan remembered what Hopper had said as he handed him the gun. _Protect her._ “The only thing I’ll regret is letting Eleven go.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another man move toward him, and before he could respond, the man grabbed the barrel of his gun, attempting to wrestle it away. A shot went off, and Jonathan released his hands, shaking. His legs turned to jelly as his knees hit the floor. The man stood in front of him, his fingers laced across his stomach as blood pumped through, red growing across his suit. Jonathan let out a hoarse cry as the body fell to the ground. 

 

Another man pulled out a gun and pointed it at Jonathan’s head. “Can I just take care of this right now?” he asked the man holding Eleven.

 

“Owens didn’t give us the go-ahead. Let’s check in first and see what the next move is. We don’t want to draw any more attention to ourselves than necessary. Let’s get out of here. Grab the boy’s gun.” The last man snatched the pistol off the floor as the three walked out the door carrying Eleven, muffled screams blocked by the man’s hand. 

 

Jonathan stared at the dead man in front of him as a pool of scarlet spread out from his body. 

 

“Jonathan!” Will’s urgent voice cut through the fog. “Jonathan!”

 

“We need to get the hell out of here.” He grabbed their belongings, stuffing them into a bag before taking Will’s hand and rushing out the door. They glanced around to make sure there were no witnesses as they ran for Jonathan’s Ford LTD. Once inside, Jonathan threw the car into drive and sped, tires squealing, out of the parking lot and up Meridian Street. 

 

 _Oh my God oh my God oh my God. What have I done? Should I have stayed and waited for the police? What would I even tell them? What is Mom going to say? I wanted to shoot monsters, not people!_ Jonathan rested his head on the steering wheel and almost rear ended the car in front of him. Will stared out the window, tears running down his face. _And this, all in front of Will. I’ve fucked up as a brother._

 

Jonathan pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot and headed for the payphone.


	10. The Hospital

 

_Trying to find these perfect places_

_What the fuck are perfect places anyway?_

_—Lorde_

 

Joyce dropped the phone as her face twisted in shock and pain, causing Hopper to let go of her waist. She slid to the floor, head in her hands. 

 

“What happened? What’s going on?” He picked up the phone. “Who is this? Jonathan? What happened?”

 

“I killed someone, and they took Eleven,” Jonathan sobbed.

 

Hopper didn’t need Jonathan to elaborate. He knew exactly who had taken El. “Listen kid, we’ll get through this. I promise. I know it’s difficult to grasp now, but we will get through it.”

 

Joyce reached for the phone, and he handed it over. 

 

“Baby, tell me what happened,” Joyce urged Jonathan, her face wet with tears. 

 

“I—I don’t know. All these people in suits showed up at the motel. They told me they had to take El. I shot one of them. I couldn’t stop them, Mom. They took El and I couldn’t stop them.” His voice cracked as he struggled to breathe. 

 

“Where are you now?”

 

“I ran away. I am at a payphone in a McDonald’s parking lot with Will.”

 

“Listen to me right now. This is not your fault. It’s mine. I should have come out last night.”

 

“No, Mom, don’t blame yourself. You didn’t know. None of us could have.” 

 

“Stay where you are. I’m going to come get you.”

 

“No, I’m driving back to Hawkins. I’ll meet you at the house. You and Hopper work on a plan to bring El home.”

 

The way he said it made Joyce’s throat catch. “Home.”

 

“I love you. No matter what. Remember that.” She handed the phone to Hopper, who placed it back on the receiver. 

 

“I know you didn’t tell them where El was this time.” Joyce spoke quietly. “How did they know?”

 

“They probably tapped the phone lines. _Damn it_ , Owens said they didn’t do that stuff, anymore. And I fell for it.”

 

“Well, I fell for Bob’s nice guy schtick. Looks like we’re both idiots.” She sniffed, wiping her nose on her shirt. 

 

Hopper sank to the floor with Joyce and held her as she cried. 

……………

 

Joyce and Hopper knew it would be at least an hour before Jonathan and Will got back. They planned to drop Will off at the Wheelers’ before making their way to The Lab where they knew Eleven would be held. They were likely expecting Hopper, so they had to come up with a way to work around that. Joyce preferred that Jonathan stay behind, but she knew he was feeling incredibly guilty and would want to be involved in any way he could. 

 

It was almost nine-thirty. “Where are they?” Joyce asked, wringing her hands. “What if Jonathan has been detained by the police? What if he was injured but didn’t tell me? What if he decided to go to The Lab without us?” Before she could go too far down the rabbit hole of anxious thoughts, there was a knock at the door. “The boys!” She leapt off the couch. 

 

“Wait,” Hopper said, stilling her. “Something seems off.”

 

Jonathan’s muffled voice could be heard outside. “Mom, it’s me. I lost my key.”

 

“See, Hop,” Joyce waved her hand back at him as she headed toward the door. 

 

She turned the deadbolt and cracked the door open. Seeing the boys, she smiled with relief, but as soon as she did, the door swung open, smashing her head into the wall. Two men in black suits pushed Jonathan and Will into the house, guns pointed at their heads. A third appeared from behind and grabbed Joyce, lying on the floor semi-conscious, a bloody welt appearing on her forehead from where the door corner had hit it. 

 

“Joyce!” Hopper reached for his gun. 

 

“Don’t move or the small boy gets shot,” one of the men instructed. Hopper held up his hands. “Now put the gun on the ground and kick it to me.” He did as he was told. 

 

“I see Owens was too cowardly to show his face and sent his minions to do the dirty work,” Hopper scoffed. He wanted more than anything to run to Joyce, but he was stuck. 

 

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this,” the man holding Joyce said. “Haven’t you learned, don’t trust anyone? I can’t wait to see the headlines this time. _Chief of Police Obsessed with Woman, Dies in Murder-Suicide._ The town’s going to _love_ this one. They’ll eat it right up.” He aimed his gun at Hopper’s head and cocked it. 

 

Joyce, now coherent, took advantage of this distraction and threw an elbow to his stomach with such force, it knocked the wind out of him. As he keeled over, she forced all of her weight, which wasn’t much, on top of him and rammed her thumbs deep into his eye sockets. He shrill scream filled the air as dark red flowed down his face. She looked at Hopper, briefly, mouthing the word _run_ , but he heard nothing, for as soon as she was on top of the man in the suit, the man holding Jonathan aimed his gun and fired. Hopper’s ears buzzed and his vision whirred, but it wasn’t him who had been shot. Joyce froze, crimson spreading across her midsection, before falling to the floor with a sickening thud. Hopper screamed, or he thought he did. Everything was spinning too fast. He lunged at the man who shot Joyce, and the man at Will’s side fired, but missed. 

 

“Don’t move!” a voice commanded from behind the chaos. In the commotion, Jonathan had managed to grab Hopper’s stray gun. One man pointed his weapon anyway, and Jonathan put three bullets in his chest. He turned the gun toward Will’s captor. “Let my brother go, or you’ll be next.” The man did as he was told. Will ran over to Jonathan, wrapping his arms around his brother and squeezing tightly. “Too bad,” Jonathan replied to the man. There was a loud pop as he fell to the floor, a bullet through his skull. Jonathan dropped the gun, choking for air. 

 

Hopper ran to Joyce, with the boys following closely behind. 

 

“ _Joyce!_ ”

 

“ _Mom!_ ”

 

She was bleeding profusely, but still conscious. The man with the crushed eyes moaned, grasping the floor aimlessly for his gun. Hopper picked it up and shot him in the neck. 

 

“We’ve got to get your mom to the hospital. _Now_!” Hopper screamed. 

 

The boys looked terrified. Hopper felt terrified. But they had to move quickly, or Joyce wouldn’t make it. He picked her up, carrying her to his police cruiser, and placed her in the backseat. “Jonathan, keep this blanket pressed to her stomach as tightly as you can. Will, come sit up front with me.” Hopper never drove so fast in his life. 

 

He screeched into the hospital parking lot as attendants ran out to assist. Joyce was placed on a gurney and wheeled quickly into the hospital. Hopper looked over at the boys. All three of them were covered in blood. 

……………

 

The receptionist glanced over at the three nervously. Jonathan, Will, and Hopper were sitting in the waiting room, anxious for Joyce to get out of surgery. The woman looked young, just out of college, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two. _Probably her first experience with something this serious,_ Hopper thought.

 

 “I can get you scrubs to wear if that would make you more comfortable,” she stated. In other words, it would make _her_ more comfortable, and the handful of people staring at them. 

 

“Yes, that would be great. Thank you,” Hopper said, as sincerely as he could muster. 

 

Once they were all cleaned up, clothes in the trash, and donning light blue scrubs, Hopper turned to the boys, eyes stony, mouth set in a straight line. “The cops are going to want to talk to us. All of us. I’ve already radioed it into the station, but I didn’t tell them about you shooting anyone.” He was speaking to Jonathan. “As far as they know, you were never in Indianapolis. You paid with cash, right?” Jonathan nodded. “Good. We have no idea who these men are. They broke into the house. Your mom reacted in self defense and was shot. Then _I_ shot everyone else. You had nothing to do with it.”

 

“I understand,” Jonathan said solemnly. He knew not to ask too many questions. 

 

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

 

“Last year, with the Demogorgon, I realized I didn’t know how to shoot. So I’ve been practicing since then.”

 

A brief, half-hearted smirk grazed Hopper’s face. “I’ll bet your mom didn’t know about that.”

 

Hopper turned to Will. “I hate that you’ve had to witness all of this. No one your age should have to. But you’re strong. You proved that a year ago.” He wrapped his arm around Will and pulled him close. 

 

“Do you think my mom will be okay?” Will asked, choked up. 

 

“I don’t know. God, I hope so, but I don’t know.”

 

One hour passed. Then another. Hopper became nervous that the surgery did not go as hoped. Just as he was about to go ask the receptionist for an update, the surgeon opened the door labeled S _taff Only_ and walked over. Hopper tried to read his face, but he couldn’t tell what the man was thinking or preparing to say. He pulled up a chair and sat facing Hopper and the boys.

 

“I have some good news and bad news. The good news is we were able to stop the bleeding. The bad news is that she went into hypovolemic shock, meaning she’s lost so much fluid that her heart has been unable to pump enough blood to the rest of her body. This is a dangerous situation in that it can cause a heart attack or brain damage. Because of this, we gave her a blood transfusion and placed her into a medically induced coma. This will hopefully reduce the chance of brain damage and let her heart rest. It’s very touch-and-go at this point, and I can’t say for certain what the outcome will be. I’m sorry. I know this is not the news you wanted to hear.”

 

All the air left Hopper’s lungs as he struggled to breathe. He wondered if this was what it felt like when Joyce had her panic attack. He looked over at the boys. Will was crying and Jonathan stared at the ground, seemingly emotionless. He knew he had to be strong for them. “Are we able to see her?” he managed.

 

“She can have visitors, but only immediate family.”

 

Jonathan suddenly interjected. “He’s immediate family.”

  
  
The doctor shrugged. “Okay. The nurse will see you back there.”

 

The nurse led them down a long, florescent-lit corridor. The sterile smell overwhelmed Hopper, as he was taken back to the last time he had watched someone die in a hospital. Sara. His heart ached with grief. He longed to touch her soft face. Run his hands through her fine blond curls. Gaze into her piercing blue eyes, eyes that she had inherited from her daddy. To wrap her in a giant bear hug and spin her around as she giggled. She would have been ten. 

 

“Room 245. Here we are.” Hopper’s thoughts were put on pause as he walked into Joyce’s room. Machines beeped, whirred, and pulsated. Wires extended from Joyce’s body like a spider’s web. He stepped closer. Her eyes were closed. She was already fair, but now she was downright pale,  dark crescents beneath her eyes. The welt on her forehead was stitched up and had begun to bruise. All of the liquids they had pumped into her made her face seem puffy. She was still beautiful. He touched her matted hair and kissed the top of her head before pulling up a chair and sitting down. 

 

Jonathan noticed. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

Will came over and rested his head gingerly on his mom’s shoulder, taking care not to disturb any of the cords. 

 

They waited, mostly in silence, until the sun sat low in the sky, casting off it’s orangish-purple glow that signaled evening. 

 

Hopper was startled awake by the nurse, who came to announce the end of her shift. “Only immediate family can stay overnight. We’ve made an exception, Mr. Hopper, but now I must insist that you go. Visiting hours will begin again at eight a.m.” 

 

Hopper verified that Jonathan and Will were okay staying without him. “I plan on returning, but if I don’t, I trust you’ll take care of your brother.” Jonathan nodded, understanding. 

 

He knelt down next to Joyce, out of earshot of the boys, and whispered in her ear as he caressed her cheek. “I promise I will rescue El. I won’t stop until I do.” His lips grazed hers. (This surprised Will.) He nodded his head toward the boys, and walked out the door. As he made his way down the corridor and back out into the lobby, he had only one thing on his mind. Avenging Joyce and rescuing El. He barely noticed everyone crowded around the television, including the doctors and nurses, or how quiet it had become.


	11. The Thessalhydra

_You must go on._

_I can't go on._

_I'll go on._

_—Samuel Beckett_

 

On the way to The Lab, Hopper stopped at his trailer to change and grab supplies. _Don’t want anyone thinking I’ve escaped from an insane asylum, although it sure feels that way_ , Hopper thought as he changed out of his scrubs and into jeans, boots, and thick flannel over a white henley. The warm snap had broken, and it was starting to feel more like typical January weather. He grabbed his rig and threaded it through his belt loops. Model 19 pistol, a handful of speed loaders, extra Magnum cartridges, two sets of handcuffs, flashlight, assisted-open blade knife, bolt cutters, lighter fluid, and lighter. Oh, and cigarettes. He couldn’t forget his cigarettes. He needed to be prepared for any situation, and he wasn’t planning on coming out alive unless it was with Eleven. On the way out the door, he grabbed his hat and placed it on his head. _Ready or not, here I come._

 

It was dark when Hopper parked his police cruiser down the road from The Lab and shut off the engine. He sat for a second compiling his thoughts. He wasn’t completely sure, but he estimated about twenty-five people worked and lived at The Lab. Four were already dead. That left twenty, plus Owens. _Yeah, I’m not coming out alive._ He would take out as many as he could, hopefully giving El a chance to escape.

 

His boots crunched through the dead leaves as he realized it had started to snow. He shivered, exhaling icy breaths. Why had he parked so far away? A half mile later, he came to it. The barbed wire fence surrounding Hawkins National Laboratory. He grabbed the bolt cutters and began snipping away at the links. When a large enough hole had been created, he discarded his tool and climbed through. _First task done._ Hopper wrapped himself around trees as he snuck toward the building, pistol drawn. He knew at this time of night, no one would be manning the gate entrance, but he was almost certain someone would be guarding the front door. He placed the lighter fluid against the building for later, then slid along the concrete exterior ever so carefully toward the front of the building and saw the guard before the guard saw him. A right jab-left uppercut-right hook combo, and the man was on the ground. Hopper handcuffed him to a supporting beam, swiped his key card and stepped inside without looking back. 

 

The Lab was large. It would be a huge feat for Hopper to get through the whole thing in one piece. He decided to start with the offices downstairs.

 

He rounded the corner to where the offices were located and swiped the key card. 

 

“Hey, who are you?”

 

 _Shit._ He’d been spotted already. 

 

Hopper aimed the pistol, and they made eye contact for a second before the man dashed for the alarm. Hopper fired and missed. _Shit, shit, shit._ He steadied himself and got a direct hit to the arm, then finally to the back, just as the man was about to press the button. As he curled into the fetal position on the ground, moaning, begging for mercy, Hopper put a bullet in his head. _The most merciful way,_ he thought as he sank to the ground. He rested his head in his hands. _You’re a cop. Get yourself together! You knew this would be part of the deal. Remember what they did to Eleven. To Joyce._ The second wind took over as he rose from the ground and stepped back out into the main hallway. Stealthily, he maneuvered himself around the corner, out of the way of the camera and swiped the card to get to the interrogation rooms. He scanned the two windowless units, but they appeared empty, so he headed upstairs. His heart pounded. This was it. Everyone else had to be there, and they were sure to be in large numbers as well as armed.

 

A few florescent lights hung from the dimly lit , sterile-white tile hallway. One flickered and buzzed. Hopper moved cautiously as he scanned the space around him. _Move forward_ , he told himself. _You’ve got to do this._ He came to an area lined with windows. The experiment labs. He ducked so as to remain unseen, and crawled along the ground, just below the sightline of anyone who might be in those rooms. When he came to the first door, he carefully cracked it open and peered inside. Three men and one woman occupied the room. 

 

“Dr. Owens said we have to find Chief Hopper, or we’re in deep shit. No one knows where he is,” one of the men said. 

 

“I heard Joyce Byers is at the hospital in a coma, and they don’t think she’ll pull through. But what about her boys? What are we going to do about them?” a second asked.

 

“Dr. Owens wants them dead.”

 

“But how are we going to do that without it looking suspicious?”

 

The first man shrugged. “We’ll just let everyone think they went to live with their father in Indianapolis. Problem solved.” 

 

Hopper clenched his fists as his body burned with rage. He _couldn’t_ fail. Not this time. 

 

“And what are we supposed to do about the Thessalhydra?”

 

 _Thessal-what?_  

 

Cold metal pressed against the back of Hopper’s skull, causing an icy chill to run down his spine. “Stand up slowly. Toss the gun to the ground.” As he did just that, he flipped around and threw a right hook to the man’s face before quickly collecting his gun from the floor, a bullet to the man’s back. 

 

“What the hell?” A lab technician ran into the hallway. He was followed by the other three. 

 

“Chief Hopper, you son of a bitch. How’d you get in here?”

 

“Same way I always do. You really need to develop better security measures.” He booked it, down the hallway, past the staircase, and around the corner, the four technicians trailing closely behind. Hopper was just enough ahead that once he reached the corner, he had time to point his gun in the direction the pursuers would be coming. On cue, the first one ran by. _Pop._ His body crumpled to the ground. The second one stopped too late. _Pop._ Another body found the tile floor. The woman was next. She tripped over the bodies, which, in turn, made the last man trip over her. Hopper emptied his gun into the pile, released the empty cartridges, and reloaded. He’d have to climb over the pile of bodies to return in the direction he came. The metallic stench was overwhelming, and he paused for a minute to dry heave. _They were going to kill Jonathan and Will. They deserved it,_ he thought. But after collecting himself, he couldn’t help but note the vacant eyes, the black, gaping mouths or the scarlet river flowing beneath the twisted bodies. He ran from the grisly scene, leaving bloody footprints down the hallway. 

 

Pistol drawn once more, Hopper made his way past the room he had last been to. He didn't see anyone else and was about to head to the living quarters, when he heard a voice behind him. 

 

“Well, well, if it isn’t Chief Hopper. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to take us all out.”

 

“That’s right.” Hopper turned to see a lab technician aiming a gun toward his head. 

 

“Throw down your weapon,” the man commanded. Hopper did this before placing his hands on his head. “Now walk.”

 

They made their way past the experiment labs, past the living quarters, and into to a large open room, the room that held the portal into the Upside Down. The main portal, larger than any of the others, spanned the entire wall, veinlike tendrils growing out and expanding into the laboratory. It groaned and pulsated as white flecks floated around the room. It had grown larger since the last time Hopper saw it. There were about ten workers, most with lab coats, and a couple with white contamination suits. They busied themselves by measuring, observing, taking notes, and chattering excitedly. Something was up. 

 

“Is Dr. Owens in here?” the man holding Hopper asked. “I’ve found someone I think he’ll be interested to see.”

 

“He was just here but left to take care of something. Said he’d be back.”

 

“Let’s put you over here. Now toss your rig to me.” He took Hopper’s handcuffs and cuffed him to a long, copper pipe. “You’ve really fucked yourself over this time, and it’s not gonna end well for you.” He violently kicked Hopper in the stomach with such force that he blacked out, then came to and vomited. He tasted blood as the man beat his face with fists, swelling his lips and busting his nose. 

 

“That’s enough,” one of the other technicians said. “Let’s wait until Dr. Owens returns and see what he wants to do.”

 

“I look forward to finishing this later,” the man sneered at Hopper, wiping his stained hands on his lab coat. Hopper didn’t reply as his nose dripped onto his increasingly blood-soaked flannel.

 

Hopper sat there for what seemed like forever. He had developed a headache and tinnitus, and he was anxious for Owens to come back so he could exact his revenge. Of course, he wouldn’t be much good locked up. 

 

Suddenly, florescent lights were replaced with red, flashing and turning, sounding a wailing alarm.

 

“Shit, it’s headed this way! _Where_ is Dr. Owens?”

 

From outside, they heard a piercing scream that reverberated through the whole building. 

 

Hopper used the ensuing chaos to attempt to loosen the copper pipe. He pulled and rattled and shook, knuckles turning white and wrists tearing open. His boot met the pipe with as much force as he could muster, and then again. It separated from the ground with a soft hiss. He wiggled his handcuffs out from the small gap and dove across the floor to retrieve his rig. Just as he was using his key to release his torn and bloodied wrists from the cuffs, the technician responsible slammed his foot down on Hopper’s hand. He screamed in pain as the man ground his heel in with a sickening crunch. With his free hand, Hopper grabbed his knife, triggered the blade, and sunk it deep into the man’s leg, causing a shrill yell. 

 

As the lights flashed red throughout the room, Hopper lunged, knocking the technician off his feet. He pulled the knife from the man’s leg and used it to slice his throat. The warm liquid pulsed as the man gurgled, bleeding out.

 

Tearing the man’s gun from his holster, Hopper adjusted it in his good hand and flipped over to his back, aiming it at the rest of the crowd, most of which were stopped dead in their tracks. _They must not have guns,_ Hopper thought. And that was true for most, but what he didn’t see was the man behind him, weapon pointed. A bullet nicked his arm as fresh blood flowed. He rolled out of the way and dove behind some heavy machinery as a second bullet hit the floor. _Shit, I’m stuck._ Hopper peered around the corner just as another bullet flew in his direction and bounced with a _ping_ against the metal. Maneuvering himself to the other end of the apparatus, he took two shots but missed. A third try left his gun jammed. _Well, fuck._ By this point, most of the other technicians had run away or were cowering behind something. 

 

Suddenly, they all heard a scream. The gunman turned in the direction it came from, and Hopper took the brief moment to run full force toward him, catching him by surprise. Knocked to the floor, the gun flew out of his hand. Hopper lifted his jammed gun and pistol-whipped him with the barrel repeatedly. Blood splattered onto Hopper’s face as the man collapsed, twitching.

 

Then he heard it again. The scream. It sounded like a girl’s cry. He stumbled back out into the hall and toward the sound. He chased the subsequent shriek down the stairs and through a short hallway as two double doors drew closed ahead of him. When he pushed his way through, he found himself outside in the swirling snow. There, about fifteen feet away, he saw Owens, clutching Eleven close to his body, a gun to her head. She had nothing on aside from a hospital gown, and by this point, the light snow had turned into a blizzard. 

 

Owens breathed heavily, his mouth curling into a sick grin. “You’ve made it this far, but it’s as far as you’ll get. I need Eleven. She’s special. I’m not going to let you take her away from me.” 

 

“You’re bluffing. There’s no way you’d kill her. She’s too important.”

 

“You’re right, but I can kill you.” He turned the barrel away from Eleven’s head and toward Hopper. In an instant, Owens’ body was sent flying into the nearest pine with a thud. 

 

Eleven’s dark eyes burned, set on Owens. Her nose trickled blood. “No.”

 

The win was short lived, however. El’s eyes turned toward Hopper, past his face and up. They became chocolate saucers as the determined steeliness was replaced with abject horror. He was afraid to turn around, and what he saw made his blood run cold. 

 

Before them stood a garish creature, nine feet tall, but with eight eyeless snake-like creatures bobbing on long necks, at least six feet above the main head. Its body was that of a reptile, scaly and green, but its undersides a sickly yellow. Tufts of rust-colored fur scattered across its chest and legs. It brandished a tail longer than it was tall, sharp pincers on the end. The main head was only a round, black cavern, churning, gnashing it’s razor-sharp, jagged teeth. It let out a piercing wail, shaking the ground, forcing Hopper and Eleven to press their hands to their ears. 

 

The serpentine heads rattled and hissed. One snapped at Hopper, then another, and another as it moved toward them. 

 

“ _Run! Now!_ ” Hopper screamed at El. She was frozen with fear. 

 

A searing hot pain not unlike that caused by a cattle prod coursed through Hopper’s left leg. He stumbled into the drifting snow and looked down to see an open wound in his calf, blood pooling in his boot. At first, he assumed one of the snake heads had gotten him, but when he turned around, Owens had his gun pointed at Hopper, a sneer spread across his face. 

 

Hopper tried to stand, but collapsed onto his injured leg. Owens cocked the weapon and fired once more. Hopper closed his eyes. _This is it,_ he thought. _The end. I’ve made it as far as I can go._ But nothing happened. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes, face to face with the bullet, frozen in mid air. He realized he had been holding his breath and gasped, turning to El. The bullet dropped to the ground at his feet. “That’s my girl,” Hopper said, grinning. He threw off his flannel and tore it, quickly fixing a tourniquet around his leg. Eleven warily eyed the monster, equidistant between Hopper and Owens, seemingly contemplating its next move. 

 

Upon seeing this, Owens decided his best chance at survival was to make a break for it. He began running in the direction of the thickest patch of trees. The Thessalhydra took notice and bounded after him, away from Hopper and El. Owens continued to run until he came to the barbed wire fence that surrounded the compound. Trapped. “No! It wasn’t supposed to happen this way!” he screamed, shaking the fence links. He turned around just as the creature closed in on him. One of the serpent heads sunk into Owens with its fangs and lifted him up off the ground, kicking and screaming. He hovered over the black bottomless pit with its teeth scraping and grinding, before being released into the mouth of hell. 

 

Shrieks pierced the air until they were silenced, replaced with the sounds of tearing flesh and crunching bones. Hopper limped over to El, turning her away from the scene. “We’ve got to get out of here,” he whispered. “You can’t walk barefoot. Hop on my back.” He gritted his teeth through the worst physical pain he had ever endured as he hobbled through two feet of snow back toward the building. El squeezed tighter around his neck, and he answered her. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” 

 

They got to the side of the building, and Hopper set El down with a groan. There, he picked up the lighter fluid he had left behind and dumped most of the container on the front door. He picked up a large rock, hurling it through the window. Then, he took the remainder of his flannel, soaked it in the fluid, lit it, and tossed it in, along with the now empty can. He lit the door and watched as the flames shot up, licking the building. “That’ll have to do,” he mumbled as he positioned El on his back once more. 

 

Just as he was about to turn and head for the opening he had made in the fence, an ear-stabbing cry shook the ground once more. “Shit, I think it’s done with its dinner.” He started to limp toward the fence when he stopped. The creature sensed they were there and began making its way toward them.

 

El whimpered into Hopper’s ear. “Run!” she squeaked out.

 

“We can’t do that, sweetheart. You saw what happened to Owens. Besides, there’s no way I could outrun it on this leg. I have a theory, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?” She nodded her head solemnly. “Okay, I’m going to set you down, mostly because I can’t hold you right now without shaking. I want you to grab onto me as tightly as you can and don’t move a muscle. Don’t say a word.” She slid down his back, threw her arms around his waist, and buried her head into his soft stomach. He wrapped his bear arms around her tiny body, and for a moment, he thought he was holding Sara. 

 

The Thessalhydra stalked toward them, serpent heads extending and snapping in various directions. It was looking for them but couldn’t find them. Hopper’s theory may have proven true, after all. One head drifted over, so close they could smell the hot, foul odor of festering flesh on its mouth. They both shut their eyes tightly. But as soon as it was there, it was gone. It had started to tread back in the opposite direction. Hopper and El stayed frozen in place for another five minutes until the creature had ripped its way through the barbed wire fence and was out of sight. They heard the distant shriek of the animal. 

 

“Now, we run.” He didn’t put her on his back this time. Her feet were likely already frostbitten, and they needed to get to the blazer as soon as possible. El was much faster than Hopper, but she slowed down to wait for him as he dragged his leg along, wincing with every step. They trudged the half mile back to the car and hightailed it to the hospital. 

……………

Disorder abounded as El and Hopper stepped into the Emergency Room. The creature had caused several car crashes and a small riot. It was all over the news. People were being told to stay in interior, windowless rooms and keep their houses dark. The military had been called in. 

 

Eleven’s mild frostbite was treated, and Hopper’s wounds were tended to. The bullet had gone completely through his leg, missing any arteries or bones. It was a clean shot. He was stitched up, his hand put in a cast, and his nose set. He was given a heavy dose of antibiotics, and, refusing the strong painkillers they offered, sent on his way. Because of the pandemonium, no one questioned either of them, too preoccupied to ask how their injuries had taken place, or why Hopper had an unrelated girl with him wearing nothing but a hospital gown. 

 

The elevator ride up to Joyce’s room was quiet. It was five a.m. at this point, but Hopper didn’t think the nurses would care. Eleven looked bone tired, and Hopper felt it. He gave her a squeeze just as the elevator doors opened. 

 

“Hopper! You made it!” Jonathan cried out in relief as the two walked into the room.

 

“El!” Will exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around her. “You’re safe!” 

 

Tears stung El’s eyes as she hugged him back. “Will.”

 

Hopper sat down apprehensively next to Joyce. “How’s she doing?”

 

Jonathan let out a shaky sigh. “I was hoping you’d get back soon, because I need to ask your advice. Mom, she’s had a heart attack—” His voice cracked. “They were hoping the coma would keep this from happening, but they said her heart is just too weak. It’s only a matter of time before it happens again. They’ve left it up to me whether to treat her again when it happens or to let her go.” Silent tears streamed down his face, which caused Will to begin crying all over again.

 

“Hey, hey, come here,” Hopper moved over to where the kids were sitting and put his arms around the boys. “I can’t tell you what to do. That’s your choice. But I will support you no matter what. I will always be here for you. All three of you.” At this, he began to choke up. 

 

“I think we should let her go,” Jonathan stated, barely a whisper. Will sobbed harder and El began to shed tears. 

 

“I think that’s the right decision, buddy. Would you each like to have time alone with her to say your goodbyes?”

 

The kids each took turns in the room, a private moment between mother and child. Even El, who considered Joyce to be the only mother she’d ever known. When one person was with Joyce, the rest sat outside the room with Hopper. 

 

Once all the children had gone, it was Hopper’s turn. He made his way silently into the room, taking a seat next to the bed. He took Joyce’s hand and stroked it softly. “I can’t go on.” The words escaped from his mouth. “I can’t do this again. Not with you. I care about you too damn much, Joyce.” He choked back sobs unsuccessfully. “Why did you have to go and save me? It should have been me.” He realized he was squeezing her hand too tightly and let go. 

 

“I kept my promise. I got El back, and I took care of every last one of those fuckers who did her wrong. I promise I will protect her for as long as I live.”

 

 _I can’t go on._ The words echoed in his head as he wept. 

 

Hopper leaned in and kissed Joyce’s mouth. He pressed his lips to her forehead, her hair, her cheeks, hot tears hitting her skin. He rested his forehead against hers one last time. “I love you.”

 

As Hopper exited the hospital room, three young faces looked up at him expectantly. They were only kids. They had each other, no one else to depend on. He thought of Sara, and how she’d been taken far too soon. He’d had only five short, wonderful years with her. Memories he wouldn’t give up for anything. His little girl had depended on him until the very end and now, here he was, three somber faces looking to him for guidance. Comfort. Someone to depend on. He wouldn’t let them down. 

 

_I’ll go on._


	12. Epilogue

 

That night, back at the Byers’ house, the four new family members slept together in the same room, trying to get some much needed rest. The Thessalhydra was still on the loose, and they had Joyce’s upcoming funeral to plan for, so Hopper tossed and turned, unable to sleep. 

 

He went to the kitchen to brew some coffee and get lost in his thoughts. From what he heard, Hawkins National Laboratory burned to the ground. He was hopeful that it meant the portal had gone along with it. Once the military killed the Thessalhydra, things would go back to normal. As normal as they could, anyway. But still, something nagged at him. If the Thessalhydra had come out of The Lab’s portal, he would have seen damage inside the building. And yet, he hadn’t. The creature had approached from outside the building. 

 

He was startled by a hand on his shoulder. “Shit, Will. You scared me.”

 

“Sorry, Hop. I couldn’t sleep.”

 

“Me, neither, kid.” He patted the boy’s shoulder.

 

There was a long pause. “Hop, can I tell you something?”

 

“Sure, what is it?”

 

“Well, it’s something I haven’t told anyone, not even my mom or Jonathan. But I feel like I should probably tell you, especially now.”

 

A mixture of empathy and concern fell across Hopper’s face. “Yeah?”

 

“I can’t control it or predict it, but I can make portals, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find the sequel at http://archiveofourown.org/works/12663921/chapters/28864644


End file.
